


Dear Barry: Trapped

by fandm_writer



Series: Dear Barry [1]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst, Barry Allen is not a happy camper, Cisco Ramon is doing his Best, Companion Piece, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Violence, caitlin snow is a badass, mentions of torture, text fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:34:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23977522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandm_writer/pseuds/fandm_writer
Summary: Just a heads up, this story is NOT a standalone. It's a companion piece to my Twitter text fic 'Dear Barry.' Part 44 respectively.You can find the rest of the story on my Twitter page: @fandm_writerWARNING: VIOLENCE AND MENTIONS OF TORTURE.
Relationships: Barry Allen & Caitlin Snow, Barry Allen & Cisco Ramon, Barry Allen/Caitlin Snow
Series: Dear Barry [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1740751
Kudos: 28





	Dear Barry: Trapped

Caitlin Snow drew in a ragged and painful breath, her hand clutching her side. There was a grating, scraping feeling beneath the skin as she did. Her brain was already telling her that she had at least one fractured rib.

She had made the decision to stop cataloging her major injuries over an hour ago, though her acute awareness of every bone, every tendon, every sign, and every symptom wouldn't allow her that reprieve.

She was trying not to think about it. Trying to keep her mind focused and her resolve strong despite the way her whole body ached.

Her head.

Her face.

Her side.

Her fingers.

Her knees.

And just about everywhere else in between.

At that point, it probably would have been faster to list off the places that didn't hurt.

The room around her was dilapidated and harsh, lit only by the metallic clip-light in the corner. The sound of approaching footsteps entered her ears, sending her mind and her heart rate into overdrive.

_She needed to get out. She needed to run._

Hastily, Caitlin tucked her phone into her boot for safekeeping and swiped the broken chair leg from amidst its own splintered remnants. She gripped the wood tightly between her swollen fingers, forcing her breaths into quiet and steady inhales.

The doorknob began to jiggle and Caitlin braced herself, her back pressed firmly against the wall beside the door.

It swung open a moment later and two figures stepped inside. It was one of the men (the leader, as best she could tell) and the woman that was with them.

"Where the hell is she!" The leader's voice boomed through the tiny room once he caught sight of the chair.

He had scarcely gotten the words out before Caitlin pounced, her makeshift club producing a solid crunch as it collided with his skull. He went down in an instant and Caitlin made a dash for the door.

The woman latched onto her as she did, trying to wrest the club free from her grip. Caitlin let her have it, adding an extra push and sending the woman stumbling back into the room. She slammed the door behind her and locked it, her feet already in motion as thunderous pounding erupted on the other side.

Her chest felt like fire as she sprinted down the darkened halls, the magnitude of her injuries starting to catch up with her. A few more turns and Caitlin soon realized she was in what looked to be an abandoned apartment building.

The walls were old and graffitied, torn and stained carpet covering the floors. Moonlight shone through broken and dirty windows all along the hall, lighting the way to a stairwell door.

The echo of yelling and voices began to grow louder and Caitlin wasted no time in covering the distance of the hall and jamming the door closed behind her.

She cleared the flights in record time, bursting through the doors and into the run-down lobby. She could see the exit from there; marred with spray paint, yet more beautiful than anything she had seen in a very long time.

She made a run for it, hoping that if she could get far enough away maybe her calls and her distress signal would finally go through. Her feet pounded the linoleum, breaths shallow gasps as she pushed herself to go faster.

Suddenly, something hard collided with the back of her neck, making the world spin and sending her tumbling across the dirty floors. The chair leg hit the ground beside her as she landed, producing a hollow thud.

Someone must've thrown it.

Caitlin pushed through the searing pain and forced herself to her knees as footfalls approached, her vision briefly blurring before sharpening once more. The leader and the woman came into view, their expressions grim and angry in the low light.

"Trip, Ace, get in here!" He called as the woman swiped the discarded club off the floor.

The two other figures soon emerged from their posts and stepped through the busted exit. They had weapons; a pipe and a crowbar. A twinge of pain in her knee reminded Caitlin that the crowbar had already been used on her once that night.

The doctor forced herself to her feet, a wave of nausea sweeping over her.

"You're more trouble than you're worth," the leader ground out.

He was older but well built, lines of grey streaking through his short and coarse hair.

 _Good._ The unspoken reply rang through Caitlin's mind.

Her legs felt weak and wobbly, but she raised her fists defensively nonetheless. She tried in vain to summon an icicle to her palms, her powers still buried deep in the depths of whatever drug they had administered.

They began to close in on her and Caitlin steeled herself for what was to come. The older man gave a nod and the three others attacked.

She side-stepped the chair leg as it swiped past her but wasn't so lucky with the crowbar. It slammed into her temple, sending the world spiraling anew. A moment more and the pipe collided with her back. The impact forced Caitlin to her knees once more, but she got back up again. And again.

The next few moments were a blur of blows and pain. She kept fighting, kept pushing through. She was pretty sure she even got a few hits of her own in. However, if they gained her any advantage, it was short-lived.

Eventually, someone landed a bone-crunching strike on her good knee and followed it up with a blow to the back of the head. Caitlin hit the floor hard, absently wondering how long she could maintain consciousness at this rate.

She didn't move as Ace (the one with the crowbar) stalked toward her. Her body refused to obey, her limbs feeling like they were weighted down by some unseen and insurmountable force. She blinked rapidly as her vision darkened, her swollen and bloody cheek pressed against the cool floor.

"Finish it and get rid of her," the older man ordered the two other men.

He then turned and began to walk away, leaving the dirty work to his henchmen.

"We'll move on to the next target," the woman supplied, following behind him.

Trip nodded and stepped up to join his partner.

Caitlin could feel the world beginning to slip away, her consciousness finally giving out on her. She hoped it would be quick, that one blow would be all it took at this point. Every breath, every tiny movement was excruciating. She just wanted the pain to end.

Seconds felt like minutes as she waited for the inevitable, unable to stop herself from taking a moment to reflect.

She thought about her life, her friends, her family, her mother. She thought about Cisco, and Ralph too. She thought about Barry and absently hoped that she would really see him again.

She thought about Iris and all the pain that she had inadvertently caused. She hoped that maybe one day she could be forgiven.

Caitlin's eyes began to get heavy, her tired mind only faintly noticing the shift in the atmosphere as Ace hefted the crowbar high above his head. The air turned to static and the skin on her hands began to tingle as he lined the bend of the metal up with her skull.

_Maybe it really would be quick._

Caitlin fought the urge to squeeze her eyes shut as he brought the tool down, putting as much force behind it as possible.

Suddenly, there was an explosion of brilliant and destructive light, the crackle of electricity filling the air. Caitlin watched in shock as an arm and then the rest of a body came crashing through the glow as if it were a wall, arm poised for a punch and already in motion.

The figure didn't stop and his fist collided with the side of Ace's face just before the man could follow through with his swing, the sheer force of it sending them both spiraling across the floor.

The crowbar hit the ground with a clatter, followed by complete silence as all eyes went to the new arrival.

Shakily, Caitlin gathered the remainder of her strength and pushed herself to a kneeling position. Her surprise savior did the same. They caught sight of each other across the lobby, locking wide-eyed and disbelieving gazes for the briefest of moments.

The face that looked back at her was that of Barry Allen.

They stared on, but the spell was quickly broken as a hoarse and raw yell ripped through Caitlin's throat.

"Barry, behind you!"

His hand shot out just as Trip's metal pipe came down, a smacking sound filling the air as it collided with his palm.

As if suddenly coming to, Barry looked around at the room and at the four others. He looked at the pipe and at the crowbar before his eyes finally drifted back to Caitlin's battered and bloodied form. She doubted it was a pretty sight. Her face was swollen and cut in more than one place, she was pretty sure she had a black eye, and there were patches of her own blood staining her clothing.

She watched a darkness creep over his features as the realization of what had happened dawned on him. Watched as he put the clues together as any good forensic scientist would.

He looked back up at his attacker, a volatile kind of anger burning in his eyes. Panicking a little, the man tried to yank the pipe free from his grasp but Barry was faster. He disarmed him in an instant and rose to his feet.

He then held up his hand for all to see, fingers becoming a blur as they started to vibrate. He brought his hand down on the weapon and sliced it in half, the two pieces clattering to the floor.

Caitlin's abductors all shared uneasy looks before seeming to come to some unspoken agreement. Barry's gaze swept the room, regarding them with a calculating and almost predatory look.

For a moment Caitlin was almost afraid for their well-being.

Without warning, they all tried to rush the speedster at once, hoping to overwhelm him.

The fight was over in a blink.

When the dust settled, Barry's assailants and Caitlin's tormentors were all unconscious on the floor. At least two of them had broken bones and the crowbar was in pieces. Barry's chest heaved as he looked around at the scattered bodies, hands shaking in a manner that had nothing to do with his speed. Then his eyes found her's and all that anger melted away.

Slowly, tentatively, Caitlin stood up, taking in the sight before her. If she were being honest, there was a part of her that wouldn't have been surprised if this all turned out to be some sort of hallucination.

She decided that it didn't matter if it was, because she had still gotten her wish. Even if it wasn't real, at least she had gotten to see Barry one last time.

Caitlin tried to give him a smile, tried to memorize that moment and bask in it for however long it would last. In the end, her knees gave out and she collapsed, expecting Barry to vanish as soon as her head hit the linoleum.

Instead, he rushed across the room in a millisecond and caught her securely in his arms. Slowly, he lowered them both to the floor, pulling her close and scooping her broken body into his lap.

She blinked a few times and looked up at his worried features earnestly, as if she had suddenly snapped out of a haze. Slowly, she reached out and gently placed her hand on the side of his face, afraid he would turn to dust if she wasn't careful.

He didn't. He leaned into her touch eagerly and brought his hand up to cover her own.

"Barry?" She whispered, tears pooling in her eyes.

"I'm here, Cait," he breathed out, his voice choked with emotion. "I'm right here."

She searched his eyes and drew in an unsteady breath, looking as though she was on the verge of sobs. Overwhelmed with the urge to comfort her, to hold her, Barry lifted her weak and limp form up to him and wrapped her in a tight embrace. As he nuzzled his head against her shoulder, she latched onto him with a surprising amount of vigor. Her arms held him close and her fingers dug into the fabric of his shirt in spite of the way her head lulled back.

Barry wasn't sure how long they stayed there, holding onto each other for dear life. He didn't want to count. He just wanted to keep her wrapped in his arms, safe and secure, and protected from anything that would ever try to hurt her. And in turn, Caitlin wanted to keep on holding him too, despite the way the pressure made her ribs ache. She wanted to keep feeling the rise and fall of his chest against her own, to feel the warmth that radiated off of him. She wanted to know for sure that he was there and _alive_ and breathing.

However, regardless of what they both wanted, the moment eventually came to an end when Barry felt Caitlin's grip begin to loosen. Slowly, he let her go and lowered her down until her back rested on his legs, keeping her head cradled in the crook of his arm.

She smiled up at him, brilliantly smiled in a way that made his heart leap in his chest. Then, slowly, with her lips still turned upward, she drifted away.

"Caitlin," he said gently, trying to rouse her back awake.

She didn't move a muscle and Barry felt a wave of panic surge through him.

"Caitlin!" He spoke with more urgency this time, trying his best to shake her without hurting her.

She remained deathly still and Barry was soon gripping her wrist, frantically searching for a pulse. He found it after a moment, a heavy exhale of relief forcing its way out of his lungs. It was faint, but it was there, hammering on as it always had.

The next few hours were a blur to Barry, and if he were to be perfectly honest, he only remembered a handful of moments in detail.

He remembered lifting an unconscious Caitlin and tearing through the streets of Central City faster than he ever had before. He remembered bursting into the lab with her cradled in his arms, her blood starting to seep into his clothes.

He remembered the look on Cisco's face as the windblown papers fell around him and Caitlin's panic button finally began to blare in the background. It was hard to describe; like shock, horror, confusion, and the embodiment of disorientation all mingled into one. Like he had simultaneously seen a ghost and been thrust into a parallel dimension.

He snapped out of it as soon as Barry's desperate "Help me save her!" entered his ears.

They both sprang into action without another word.

Barry ran to the med bay and laid her down gently on a gurney as Cisco rushed to gather supplies. All the while, Barry tried his best to explain what had happened. Cisco listened intently and didn't once question how he knew.

Yet, the horrible truth was that even if Barry hadn't said a word, it wouldn't have been hard to piece together what they had done to her. The marks on her body painted a clear picture of the agony she had been through.

She was covered in bruises, gashes, cuts, and even a few burns. The magnitude of it all made Barry's blood boil. It made his thoughts go to dark places that he usually tried to keep away from.

However, he knew he couldn't go down that rabbit hole. No matter how angry he was, no matter how badly he wanted to recompense the pain that had been inflicted, he knew he needed to stay focused. Caitlin's well-being was more important than any of that.

Neither Cisco nor Barry were close to being medical professionals, but between the two of them, they eventually managed to get her into a stable condition. They cleaned all her wounds and gave her a pint of blood. They splinted her broken bones and relocated the joints that had been displaced.

It was a nerve-racking and grueling process, one that tested Barry in ways he never quite had been before.

They were in the process of double-checking to make sure she had no internal bleeding when Barry realized how cold her skin was. He had panicked in that moment, his thoughts spiraling so quickly that it was honestly scary. However, an instant more and he realized he could see her breath, a thin layer of frost spreading over her skin. Relief washed over him.

They took more x-rays after that, discovering that at least two of her fractures had healed within thirty minutes. Whatever she had been drugged with was finally starting to wear off, allowing her powers room to work their icy magic.

Barry had never been more grateful for those powers than in that moment.

When Caitlin was finally out of the danger zone, he went back to the scene and collected her captors. He threw them in the Pipeline without a second thought, fully intending to question them later.

As late-night stretched into early morning, Barry saw several familiar faces and was welcomed with equal parts shock and amazement. He found that he couldn't truly focus on any of them. His heart wasn't in it. Not with Caitlin lying in a hospital bed, fighting for her life.

He saw Ralph and Joe and even Nash. At some point, Iris showed up. She had hugged him tightly and kissed him with tears in her eyes. He hugged her back, trying his best to answer her questions and explain how he was still alive and how he had gotten back.

The truth was, he hardly knew. One moment he had been in the Speed Force and then the next he wasn't. All he had known was that he needed to get to Caitlin. The rest had followed like an instinct or a reflex.

Barry went back to Caitlin's bedside not long afterward, finding that he wasn't comfortable with getting too far away from her right now. He pulled up a chair and planted himself there, taking her hand loosely in his.

He was a mess, his nerves nothing but frayed edges and his clothes marred with dried blood. _Her blood._

He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing, his inhales unconsciously falling into rhythm with hers. He listened to the steady beep of her pulse and silently prayed that they had done enough, that she would wake up.

At some point, Barry must've nodded off because his next moment of awareness was startling awake as Caitlin's hand began to shift in his own.

She stirred a bit more before her eyes slowly flickered open, blearily taking in her surroundings. They eventually drifted down to him and she drew in a low and sharp gasp, her hand instinctively tightening around his fingers.

" _Barry_ ," she breathed out after a beat, her voice so quiet he might've missed it had it belonged to anyone else.

"I—I thought maybe it had been a dream," she admitted shakily, tears once more clouding her vision. "Barry, are you really here?"

Her voice sounded so desperate, so broken, it made his chest hurt.

"I'm really here. I promise you," he assured, taking her hand firmly in both of his and scooting to the edge of his seat.

"How? How did you—" she began to reason, words still laced with disbelief.

"I got your texts," he piped up a little too quickly, all those weeks of not truly being able to communicate making him anxious. "I—I got them all. Right up until the last one."

"I don't think I'll be getting any more on this phone though," he added, producing the shattered and charred remnants of the device from his pocket. "I kinda fried it on my way out of the Speed Force." He made a lame and uneasy attempt at a chuckle.

Caitlin remained quiet, still reeling from the revelation that he had been on the other end the whole time. He searched her bruised features, watching her emotions war against themselves.

"Please say something," he spoke, his tone raw and almost pleading. "Anything."

"All of them?" She breathed out, a shattered and terrified expression finding its way to her lovely face.

Barry nodded slowly and saw the realization spread through her. She let out an involuntary and pained kind of sound, her bandaged hand coming up to cover her face. He could actually see her begin to close in on herself, watch her as she forced her walls up. She took a shuddery breath and schooled her expression, her shoulders straightening as she began to speak.

"I am so sorry. I swear to you it will never—"

"Don't be sorry," Barry cut in, sounding a little too desperate to his own ears. "Don't...don't ever be sorry. Caitlin if it weren't for those texts I—" he broke off, needing a moment to collect himself.

"I wouldn't have known. I wouldn't have known what was happening or that you needed me. I wouldn't have gotten there in time," he explained, throat feeling raw. "So please—" he begged, his voice so low it was almost a whisper, "—don't be sorry. Whatever happens next, we'll get through it. Just as long as _you_ are alright. That's what matters to me."

Caitlin nodded, sharp and wordless, a few tears streaking down her cheeks.

"Okay?" He affirmed, fighting off tears of his own.

"Okay," she answered, sniffling a little and quickly wiping away the droplets of saltwater.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Barry gently running his thumb along her scathed and swollen knuckles. She seemed to relax after that, her eyelids steadily starting to droop. She even dozed a few times only to jerk back awake, not wanting to leave Barry.

"It's alright," he eventually had to tell her, voice low and gentle. "Please rest. I'll be here when you wake up," he vowed.

She nodded sleepily and closed her eyes, settling in and allowing herself to finally drift off.

Barry wasn't sure how long he sat there just listening to the rise and fall of her breaths, allowing them to reassure him that she was going to be okay. After a while, he decided it would be a good idea to change his soiled clothes, if only for the sake of his sanity.

Reluctantly, he slipped out of the med bay, intending to cut through the Cortex and grab a few of the embossed sweats they always kept on hand.

He ran into Cisco and Iris on his way there, only stopping because a question was directed his way.

"How is she?" Iris's quiet and pensive voice inquired.

"She's hurt...so bad," he answered truthfully. "But I think she's gonna be okay."

"These guys, whoever they are, they know how to break people. They must've been following her for who knows how long. They knew she was a meta, they knew she was Killer Frost. They even knew where she lives," he continued, his jaw involuntarily clenching at the thought of it.

_They had targeted her, preyed on her. Tortured her. Yet she had never once wavered._

"Did you get anything back from the blood sample," he shifted his attention to Cisco, trying to keep a level head and not let his emotions swallow him whole.

"There was definitely trace amounts of something in her system, but I can't tell what it is," Cisco replied from where he leaned over one of the computer monitors. "I need Caitlin to figure out what Caitlin was drugged with." He let out a humorless and exhausted laugh.

"I just—I don't understand why they decided to target her specifically," Barry tried to reason, the events of the past several hours still playing over and over in his head. "I mean why not the Lab? If they were really following her that closely then why not just break in here? You'd probably get more information from that then you ever would her."

He then ran a hand through his messy hair, a low and frustrated sigh drifting through the air.

"Probably because she hasn't actually been here in a month," Cisco spoke up after a moment, his tone tight and undercut with something Barry couldn't quite place.

The speedster's face fell in an instant. " _She what?"_ He blurted.

A look of regret crossed Cisco's face and he sighed before continuing, arms crossed and body leaned slightly on the desk for support.

"She still comes in for meta alerts but she's been keeping her distance. Something... _happened_ while you were gone and—"

"I know what happened," Barry interrupted, tone growing sharp. "She stopped talking to me because of it. Stopped giving me updates about what was happening here."

"You were getting her messages?" A look of shock flashed across Iris's eyes as she pushed off from her seat and moved closer.

Barry regarded her silently, gauging her reaction and wondering if she was still as angry as Caitlin had said.

"Yes, I was," he eventually stated, voice not holding an ounce of remorse.

The truth was he couldn't help but be a little angry too. Iris had told her to leave and Caitlin had done just that. She had been alone and without support, almost at the cost of her own life.

"When was the last time anybody even saw her? The last time anybody checked up on her?" Barry questioned, feeling his patience steadily slipping away.

"I've been trying to keep in touch, trying to get her to come back but—" Cisco paused, shaking his head. "I hadn't heard from her in a week."

"A week?!" Barry's voice came out louder than he meant it to, causing everyone else in the room to jump.

He grew quiet after that, taking a few steps away as the reality of the situation sunk in. He was so exhausted, so worn thin, not only from that night but from the months he spent trapped in the Speed Force as well. He soon found that he couldn't quite bring himself to reel in his emotions this time, he didn't have the energy for it.

He turned back, his words addressed to everyone and no one at all.

"She could've been dead!" He allowed himself to yell, the echo reverberating off the walls. "She _would have_ been dead if it wasn't for—"

He cut himself off, backtracking, and taking a moment to try and collect his tempestuous thoughts. He drew in a few deep breaths before continuing, his fist clenching at his side.

"Everybody here was supposed to look out for each other when I was gone. She should _never_ have been out there on her own. She should never have been made to feel like she wasn't _welcome_ here." Barry couldn't help the way his gaze slid over to Iris as he spoke.

She was taken back by the gesture, her demeanor shifting in the blink of an eye. "You can't be serious?" She all but scoffed. "You aren't really blaming _me_ for this?"

"You told her to leave." He met her head-on. "She left because you wanted her to."

"I was upset, I was hurt, I didn't actually think she'd do it!" Iris's voice was beginning to rise now. "I had just found out that someone I considered a friend was texting my dead husband every day. How was I supposed to react?"

"It wasn't any of your business," he found himself defending her. "She didn't mean anything by it. She was hurting too and she was just trying to cope."

He paused, shaking his head.

"And you know what?" He soon spoke up again, feeling a venom creep into his words. "If it weren't for those messages she would be _dead_ right now and I would still be stuck in the Speed Force and _nobody_ here would be the wiser." He gestured around the room. "The only reason I even knew what was happening was because she was so hurt and so afraid she was going to die that she wanted to talk to me one last time."

"You're acting as if it was just some harmless small talk." Iris looked at him as though she couldn't believe what she was hearing. "She told you she was in love with you, Barry! Are you telling me that doesn't bother you?"

"That's not the point—" he began.

"No," she cut him off. "No, you answer my question." Her tear-filled eyes blazed. " _Does it bother you?"_

He didn't speak for a moment. He simply looked at her, looked at her, and wondered how he could suddenly see her in such a different light. He wondered how he could go from looking at someone like they had hung the stars to feeling like he didn't even know them anymore.

Was that really all she cared about in this situation?

Did she really care more about _that_ then the fact Caitlin had almost been killed?

Or maybe he was just being blind. Maybe his own emotions and fears were clouding his judgment and he really should be as upset as she was.

The truth of the matter was, Barry didn't know. All he knew was that he had spent so much time alone and worried. He had spent a month checking his phone, hoping for any tiny word that would let him know that she was still there.

And when he finally did hear from her...he had never been more terrified in his life. He had never felt so helpless and trapped. He had never known he was capable of summoning the strength it took to physically break through the barriers of the Speed Force.

So in the end, he wasn't sure he could truly bring himself to be upset. He certainly couldn't regret the texts, not if they had played a part in saving the life of one of his closest friends.

Barry steeled himself and decided to answer truthfully, knowing he would probably live to regret it.

"No," he uttered that single, earth-shattering word. "No, Iris, it doesn't."

Silence reigned as a range of emotions crossed her features before finally settling on that of hurt and rage. She then turned on her heel and stormed away, her footsteps slowly fading from earshot.

Barry got a sinking feeling in his stomach, wondering if he had gone too far this time. He sighed and ran a hand over his face before letting his eyes slowly drift back over to Cisco.

He was still leaned against the desk, arms crossed, and an unreadable expression on his face.

"Are you mad at me now too?" Barry mumbled through his hand.

"No," Cisco replied quietly, his voice sounding loud in the nearly empty Cortex. "I just...want you guys to be okay. That's all. You. Caitlin."

"Nothing here has been okay since Crisis and—" he trailed off and heaved a weary breath, the weight of it all resting heavily on his shoulders. "I wish I'd kept a closer eye on her. I wish I had just vibed her the minute she stopped answering my calls. It was a stupid mistake and I should've—"

"Hey, hey. This isn't your fault," Barry jumped in. "I know how hard you tried. To take care of her. To take care of the city and everyone else."

Cisco looked at him for a moment, narrowing his eyes.

"I got _all_ of her texts, remember?"

"Oh. Right," Cisco let out a soft chuckle. "Just do me a favor and don't tell her I high-jacked her phone. I'd never hear the end of it."

"I don't know," Barry crossed his arms after a beat. "I mean you _did_ say it was getting pretty boring around here without me. I might have to do something about that." He added a shrug for emphasis.

"Shut up," Cisco actually laughed that time, reaching forward and giving Barry a slight shove. "That wasn't what I said."

"I mean it was basically what you said," he laughed along with him, feeling some of the tension in his shoulders ease up.

"I missed you too," Barry eventually added, stepping forward and opening his arms.

"Yeah yeah, bring it in," Cisco rolled his eyes good-naturedly, pulling the other man in for a hug.

"You know she's going to be okay, right?" The breacher spoke once they moved apart.

Barry sighed heavily, running a hand over the back of his neck. "I hope you're right."

"She will be. It's Caitlin, she's one of the strongest people I know. If anybody can bounce back, it's her."

"Come on," he added, giving Barry a pat on the shoulder before moving towards the door. "Let's go find you some different clothes. You look like you got into a fight with a blender and it won."

Barry nodded and fell into step next to him, their figures slowly fading down the winding halls.

After that, Barry didn't leave Caitlin's bedside for the rest of the night. He stayed until long after the sun rose and the stars faded from the sky. He watched over her, silently vowing to himself that he would always keep her safe.

He was no longer trapped, no longer stuck on the outside looking in. He was finally there with her, and he had no intentions of ever leaving again.

* * *

When Caitlin next awoke, it was to the quiet ticking of the analog clock on the wall across from her bed, the hands pointing to 3:08.

She stretched gently and yawned, immediately noticing the pain in her side had lessened considerably.

Caitlin had been drifting in and out of sleep for several hours now, each time opening her eyes to find Barry vigilantly stationed beside her bed. Each time she would tell him that he should get some rest too. Each time he would decline, saying that he wasn't tired and that he would much rather stay with her.

Caitlin would eventually relent and go back to sleep, allowing herself to take a bit of comfort in the reaffirming pressure of his hand wrapped around hers.

Only this time it was different. Barry wasn't there when she woke up and Caitlin sincerely hoped it was because he had finally taken her up on her suggestion.

The med bay was quiet and still now, gentle afternoon light drifting through an open window.

A loud and gurgling rumble soon interrupted the calm. Caitlin frowned down at her stomach, the dull aches of hunger trembling through her. She realized she couldn't actually remember the last time she'd eaten.

Slowly and carefully, Caitlin sat up, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. She let her bare feet hit the cool tile floor and steadily shifted her weight onto them. She stood there for a moment before finally taking a few small steps forward, testing her balance.

She found that she was only mildly weak, the last lingering echoes of a few aches and pains flaring every now and then. It was an absolute joy compared to how she had felt the previous night.

Caitlin gingerly made her way across the med bay and through the lab, intending to break into one of the stashes of snacks she usually kept ferreted away for Barry.

She got about halfway down the hall when she stopped in her tracks, the sound of raised voices filling her ears. She soon realized those voices belonged to Barry and Iris. They were just around the corner, loudly arguing about one of the many things they usually argued about.

Caitlin felt her stomach drop in a way that had nothing to do with hunger. In fact, she was suddenly nauseous, the clammy hands of dread latching onto her and pulling her underneath the suffocating currents of guilt.

_Were they arguing because of her?_

_Was Iris mad that she was there?_

_Or was it the texts again?_

_Did she even know that Barry had gotten all of her texts?_

Caitlin soon came to the conclusion that she must have. She would've wanted to know how Barry had gotten back and Caitlin was sure he would've told her.

She suddenly couldn't bring herself to take another step. She couldn't face them. Either of them. This was all her fault, all due to her mistakes and her carelessness and folly.

She let out a shaky exhale and silently backed away. She refused to be the cause of any more problems. She would not be the turmoil in anyone's relationship, let alone one of her closest friends.

So Caitlin made her way back to the med bay, a freezing kind of resolve settling into her bones. She quickly tidied up the bed and scribbled down a note, tearing it off the pad and leaving it on the pristine sheets.

After that, she gathered her things and silently slipped away, knowing that, at least in spirit, she would never truly return.


End file.
